


Those Boots

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 16:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15998717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: There are always objects you associate with people, right?  Things that spring into your mind when you think about someone, seemingly meaningless items that somehow form the central point of your memories of a person.  For the reader, her thoughts of Rick Grimes all seem to start from those goddamn dusty, old cowboy boots of his.  Right back to the first time they met…





	Those Boots

The smooth leather was warm to the touch, kissed by the rays of early morning sun that had crept in through the window as you were sleeping.  The toes were scuffed and faded, the soles worn down by years of hard walking, and the stitching around the ankles was discoloured and rough beneath your fingers.  Rick Grimes’ trusty cowboy boots.  You thought before, in his previous life, he’d have kept them carefully polished, buffed to a high shine, a dark chestnut brown, smart and professional, just like the man he used to be.  But you preferred them this way, showing the toil of the end of the world just as much as their owner, dusty and scraped, but still reliable and hard-wearing.  

You sighed as you scooped them up from where they’d been lying haphazardly on the floor, a wave of emotion threatening to drag you under as you placed them neatly side-by-side against the wall, retreating to settle yourself back on the bed, a small smile quirking up your lips as you slipped into your memories.  The first time you’d met him, your savior, your everything.  Rick Grimes.  The first thing you’d seen had been those damn boots.

 

* * *

 

_It was all over.  This was it.  You’d battled your way out of the city and now you were set to meet your maker on the side of the highway.  You were sprawled on your stomach, clawing your way along the road, your ankle spasming with pain after the nasty fall you’d taken from the fence you’d had to scale to make your escape.  You couldn’t run anymore, couldn’t even force yourself to your feet, and the corpses were closing in, their snarls drowning out your growls of frustration.  Your fingers were bleeding as you dragged yourself along the rough tarmac, your shirt torn and tattered from the friction of the motion.  It was getting too hard, too much.  You couldn’t go on much further._

_When the first rumbles of an engine reached your ears, you thought you might be dreaming, having slipped out of consciousness and into your own imagination.  You were beyond hope, not believing you had any chance of rescue when you were almost within the biters’ reach.  So, when you sensed the large bulk of the van come screeching to a halt behind you, you simply gave up, letting your head drop down onto the ground and waiting for death to come.  If you were hallucinating then you were too far gone to continue to fight.  You were done.  You just hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much, that you’d be able to contain your screams when their rotting fingers tore you apart._

_You squeezed your eyes tight shut, your muscles tense, waiting for the inevitable pain, but instead gunshots echoed through the open space, followed by the thuds of bodies falling, and when you finally dared to sneak a peek, you could see a pair of scuffed cowboy boots marching towards you, the heels clicking against the road._

_‘Ma’am, are you okay?’  You couldn’t open your mouth to respond, too shocked by the sudden lifeline that you’d been offered.  ‘Hello, excuse me.  Are you bit?  Have you got people waiting on you?’_

_You finally managed to turn your head, your eyes travelling up the length of your rescuer’s body, taking in the sheriff’s uniform, dirtied slightly from whatever he’d had to go through to make it to this point, and the kind blue eyes that were raking over your bruised and broken form, full of concern._

_‘Miss, I need you to answer me, okay?  We’ve gotta get outta here, but I can’t take you if you’ve been bit.’_

_‘I-I haven’t.’  Your voice sounded choked and panicked when you finally managed to speak.  ‘I haven’t.  It’s- My ankle hurts.  I-I think it might be broken.’_

_A shout from the van still idling behind you drew your attention away from the officer and you turned to see a blonde lady hanging from the open window.  ‘Rick, we’ve gotta go!  Come on!’_

_‘Alright.’  Seeming to make a split-second decision, he holstered his gun, striding towards you and slipping an arm around your waist, his grip biting as he hauled you upright, stooping to slide his other arm beneath your knees and hoisting you into the air.  ‘We’ve gotta move.’_

_He rounded the vehicle, every step jolting your leg, and you bit on your lip to silence your whimpers of pain as he climbed in through the rear door, the clanging of the metal shutter slamming down behind you the last thing you heard before the world went black._

 

* * *

 

Rick Grimes.  He’d saved your life that day in more ways than one.  You’d seen your whole family shredded before your eyes before you’d tried to escape the city.  You quite literally had nothing left to live for, but he gave you a new family, delivered you in to their welcoming arms and invited you to become a productive member of a group that was working together to survive.  It had turned out that your ankle was only sprained, not broken, and, with some time to rest, it healed quickly, allowing you to contribute to the daily chores around the camp and find a new purpose that you badly needed.

You swore that day, as your injury was tended to by a couple of concerned ladies whose names had escaped you in the rush of pain and new faces, that you would follow Rick wherever he went.  He had a quiet strength about him that you found made you trust him instinctively and he was firm in his beliefs without seeming arrogant or bullish.  So, when the camp had been overrun by walkers in the night and you’d lost people, too many people, you’d supported him when he suggested that the CDC might be your only hope of finding a way out of this mess.  You didn’t have a clue whether you’d find the answers the group needed there or not, but, if Rick thought you should go, that was good enough for you.

 

* * *

 

_The CDC was quiet.  Jenner had retired to his quarters, along with the members of your group, their morale boosted by an evening of plentiful food and several bottles of wine.  Your own head was swimming, but it was far too busy to even think about sleeping, so you’d slipped back into the centre of what remained, seeking solitude and space to process your thoughts.  There was nothing left.  That much was clear.  One single scientist trying desperately to come up with a solution before his resources or his motivation ran out.  It was a bleak reality and one that you almost thought you’d been better off not knowing._

_You were muttering to yourself, trying to come to terms with living out the rest of your days in this bunker, deep below the ground, safe but trapped and with no hope of anything but to repeat the same monotonous routine, when a muffled groan had you spinning on your heel to see who had dared to interrupt your ponderings.  There was no one there that you could see, at least at first, but as your gaze dropped, a familiar pair of cowboy boots caught your eye, poking out from behind a long desk, flexing slightly as the feet within them fidgeted._

_‘You okay down there, Grimes?’  You rounded the corner, unable to stifle your laughter when you saw the sheriff flat out on his back on the floor, one hand over his eyes, his face flushed.  ‘Hey!’  You kicked at his leg.  ‘You with me?’_

_‘Yeah, yeah.’  His hand slipped to his brow, massaging his temples with his long fingers as he squinted up at you.  ‘Room’s spinning a little.  Think I hit it a little hard tonight.’_

_‘You and me both,’ you agreed, dropping to the floor beside him, slightly less gracefully than you’d intended, and staring up at the vast ceiling above.  ‘I think we needed this though, to let our hair down, have some fun.’_

_‘Maybe.’_

_‘You don’t think so?’_

_He sighed.  ‘I think maybe it was better not knowing what we found out today.’_

_He was echoing your own thoughts, but it wasn’t like Rick to sound so dejected, so hopeless, and the effect it had on you was sobering.  ‘Hey, don’t do that.’  You rolled towards him, jabbing a finger into his ribs and smirking when he flinched.  ‘You don’t get to do that.  You’re the boss of us, Grimes.  You gotta be the one to rally the troops, keep things going.’_

_He nodded, but you could still see the frown painted over his features in the glow of the computer screen above.  ‘I’m serious.  If  you lose it, we might as well be dead already.  You’re holding it all together.’_

_‘I don’t think that’s true.  Shane-’_

_‘Shane’s an ass,’ you bit out, cutting him short, and he guffawed with laughter, resting a hand on his stomach as mirth racked his body.  ‘What?  He is.  I kinda hate that guy.’_

_‘He’s a good friend.  He saved my wife, my son-’_

_‘Yeah, and he won’t be letting you forget that anytime soon, I’ll bet.’  You rolled your eyes.  ‘You need to be careful there, Rick.  There’s something about him…’  You tailed off, unwilling to say too much.  You’d seen the way the sheriff’s partner’s eyes lingered on Lori when Rick’s back was turned, the way he threw up obstacles in the path of every plan that Rick put forward.  There was resentment bubbling away under the surface that left you feeling ill at ease.  You weren’t stupid - you knew there were issues in Rick’s relationship with his wife, but you were sure they didn’t run deep enough to create an opening for Shane to slip in to.  At least until…_

_‘I’m scared, Y/N.’  Rick’s voice was thick was emotion and you pushed yourself up on your elbow so you could look down at him, at the fear in his piercing blue eyes.  You knew he wouldn’t be admitting any such thing if his lips hadn’t been loosened by the booze, but you were glad you were there in his moment of vulnerability, that it was you that he was opening up to.  ‘I don’t know where we go from here.  Do we stay?  Do we go and hope someone out there has answers that actually make a difference?  I mean-’_

_‘Hey.’  You reached out a hand to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb over the stubble and giving him a small smile.  ‘We’re all scared, Grimes, I promise you that.  But you don’t gotta figure this out tonight, okay?  Those are questions for tomorrow.’_

_For a moment you thought he might argue, but instead he nodded, letting his eyes close and, when they flickered open again, they were locked on yours.  His hand had crept up to cover your own where it was still pressed to his face, tracing your knuckles, and the air between you suddenly felt thick with something that you didn’t understand.  ‘Thank you.’_

_‘Of course.’_

_‘No, I mean it.  Thank you.’_

_You swallowed hard, forcing your gaze away, feeling your cheeks flush hot under the intensity of his stare.  ‘I need to get some sleep.  C’mon, let’s get you to bed.  Lori will be wondering where you’ve got to.’_

 

* * *

 

That moment had become clearer in your mind later when you’d realised that Rick and Lori’s issues ran deeper than you’d ever imagined.  You’d known that something had been going on between her and Shane, had felt it from the very first time you’d seen them together, but the announcement of her pregnancy and the uncertainty of who the father might be…  You could see the strain that it was putting on the sheriff.  He was hurting and there was little you could do except offer to be his shoulder to lean on should he need you.  

The atmosphere that had come over the two of you at the CDC had still crept into your mind in the middle of the night when you wondered what might have happened had you not turned away, but you stayed strong, accepting it as what you believed it to be - an alcohol-fuelled desire to reach out and seek comfort from each other, that would have been regretted instantly in the morning should it have led anywhere.  It didn’t matter if Lori had cheated, if Shane was in love with her, and if Rick was struggling to come to terms with the reality of raising the child as his own despite the confusion.  He was married.  Off-limits.  So you’d closed your heart and pressed on.

When Lori died giving birth to a beautiful baby girl - Rick’s daughter, or else the poor thing would have been born an orphan - you watched the man you held in the highest regard fall to pieces.  He was out of control, losing his mind, and for the first time you worried that maybe he wasn’t strong enough to be the leader that you needed.  You never voiced that concern though, not once.  Your loyalty ran far deeper than even you had perhaps realised, and instead you threw yourself in to taking care of his kids, keeping them safe and loved until he returned to you and took up his role once more.  You’d support him when he was ready to do that, you swore, and you did, remaining by his side even as the community at the prison that you called home grew and he lay down his weapons and started working the land, needing to step away from the violence and responsibility of being the one you all followed.  Until it had all gone horribly wrong…

 

* * *

 

_Screams.  There were screams cutting into your dreams, echoing through your imagination where they didn’t belong and dragging you back to reality.  Your eyes flickered open and you took a moment to focus yourself.  Your prison bunk was firm beneath you, the sunlight creeping in through a small tear in the curtain that hung across the front of your cell and, yes, there were screams tearing through the quiet morning, pounding footsteps as those already up and about went to investigate.  With panic rising in your heart, you swung your legs out of bed, slipping your feet into your boots and instinctively reaching for your gun, checking that it was loaded before you too crossed the cell block and headed out into the yard.  You were moving fast but carefully, unsure what was causing the anguished cries and knowing you needed to stay alert.  It didn’t matter if you felt safe here, if the walkers were on the other side of the fences…  Nowhere was really safe anymore.  That was just the world these days._

_‘What’s going on?’ you asked a young woman who fled past you, her eyes wide with terror, her hair plastered to the sheen of sweat that coated her forehead.  ‘What’s happening?’_

_‘Biters!’ she informed you, her voice wavering as fear consumed her.  ‘In D block!  God, they’re everywhere, they’re just-’_

_You didn’t wait for her to finish, taking off towards the large concrete building before you and slipping in through the heavy metal door.  You could hear the familiar snarls that made your stomach knot and your heart start to race as adrenaline kicked in and forced your body into action, but the scene that met your eyes was one of devastation.  Bodies littered the floor, blood and gore splattered over the room as the undead feasted on the corpses that had once been your friends.  You could hear the squelch of rotting flesh giving way as the more experienced in the group sought to reclaim their home, and you joined them, raising your pistol and firing a shot into the skull of the walker nearest you, swallowing hard when it collapsed onto the mangled remains of a young boy.  You continued to move, letting loose bullets when needed to drop any biters that got too close, but otherwise relying on your knife.  It seemed an endless task, the dead reanimating as quickly as you took down the ones that had killed them, but eventually the room cleared, and you dropped to your knees, exhausted and bereft as you surveyed what was left of the group that had inhabited the cell block.  It turned your stomach to see what a mess the walkers had made of them, hurt your head to contemplate how this had even happened and you let your knife fall to the ground with a clatter as you pressed the heels of your hands to your temples, trying to ease the ache that had taken up residence there._

_‘Hey, you alright down there?’_

_The soft Southern drawl calmed you a little and your eyes focused on the toes of the worn cowboy boots that moved into your field of vision, the brown leather splattered with dark droplets of blood.  It had been a long time since Rick Grimes had found himself covered in the warm, congealing substance and, when your gaze drifted up to find his face, you could see the tension in his jaw, his grief evident in the thin line of his mouth.  His hand was hovering in the air in front of you, fingers flexing as he waited for you to take it, and you did, letting him haul you to your feet and run an appraising eye over you, checking you for injuries, any wounds that might need treating, or worse.  ‘I’m good.  I’m okay.’_

_He nodded.  ‘Thank you for helping out.  You didn’t need to do that.’_

_‘Yes, I did.’  The prison boasted large numbers now, but not everyone here was capable of fighting, of taking on the undead and coming out on top.  You had a responsibility to protect them just as Rick did, and Daryl, and Carol, and everyone else that had stepped up to ensure that the people here were safe.  ‘What the hell happened here, Grimes?  How did those things get in?  Did the fence come down?’_

_‘No, no, I don’t think so.’  You supposed he was trying to sound reassuring, but his inability to give you a firm answer only increased your unease.  ‘I think this must have started in here.’_

_‘How?’_

_‘I don’t know,’ he admitted.  ‘But I’m gonna find out.’_

_‘Rick-’_

_‘I know.  I’ve been… distracted.  I needed to step back from all this for a while, for Carl, and for me.  But I’m back now, I promise.  I’ll get to the bottom of this.’_

_Daryl’s shout tore him away from you and you watched him take the stairs two at a time as he climbed up to the higher level to see what the archer had found.  He was talking quietly and you were unable to make out the words, but his tone was firm, authoritative, and you felt yourself start to relax.  If Rick was back in charge, maybe, just maybe, you’d all survive another day._

 

* * *

 

That had been the start of you getting your friend back, though it was a harder version, a colder man determined to do whatever it took to protect the people under his leadership.  It gave you a warm feeling inside to see those that hadn’t known him as the strong and capable person he’d been before losing his wife start to respect him, to look to him for answers which he would provide with a natural confidence that nobody else could ever pull off.  Rick Grimes was back and following him came as easily to you as breathing.  

You’d followed him out of the prison when it fell, the community torn apart, the family splintered and separated as their home burned.  He’d been wounded, barely still standing, but you’d slipped your arm around his waist and he’d leaned on you as you kept moving, kept going, Carl leading the way, though God only knew where the hell you were headed.  You couldn’t fault the kid - he stepped up whilst his father was incapable of taking charge, going out to find supplies as you tended to the sheriff’s wounds, nursing him slowly back to health and praying that he’d pull through.  Because you needed him to pull through.  The falter of your heartbeat when you’d seen him pinned beneath the Governor, the relief that had flooded your veins when he’d risen to his feet once again, and the heat that had burned in your cheeks as he’d given you a tight smile, his fingers squeezing your shoulder as you helped him along, had told you what you’d really known all along, you supposed.  Rick Grimes meant a whole lot more to you than you’d ever let yourself admit and losing him…  Well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

You’d loved him all the more when you’d found yourself locked in that container at Terminus, the determined set to his jaw, the knowing sparkle in his eye as he’d stood strong before you all.  There was no fear.  Just the knowledge that this was another ordeal that he’d get you out of, all of you.  He was a survivor, a leader, a protector, and he was damned if you were all going out like this.  And once again, he’d come through.  It had been Carol that provided the distraction you needed in order to fight your way out of the place, but it had been Rick that led the charge, following the beckoning call of freedom.

 

* * *

 

_‘You okay?’_

_You were sitting on the cool floor of the church, your back pressed against the smooth wood of the end of one of the pews, worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth.  Your entire body was tense, on edge, and you were pulling on your fingers as you sought to calm yourself.  It didn’t feel right, being there, with the Father looking on, his eyes flickering from side to side, anxious and jittery.  You didn’t trust him.  You didn’t trust anyone outside of your own group at this point, and was it really any surprise?  After everything you’d gone through, you’d realised that the undead really weren’t the problem anymore.  It was the living that kept taking from you._

_‘Hey.’  Rick spoke again, collapsing to the ground beside you and leaning back on his hands, his face obscured by shadow in the gloom of the building in the late evening.  ‘I asked you if you were okay.  You with me?’_

_Taking a deep breath, you nodded, and he sat forward slightly, reaching over to still your agitated movements, his touch warming, calming.  ‘Yeah, I’m okay.  Sorry.  I’m just…’  You tailed off, unsure how to finish, but he knew what you meant, knew you well enough now to know when you were stressed the hell out._

_‘Yeah, I know.’_

_‘You really think we can trust this guy, Grimes?’_

_He sighed, and you imagined the frown that creased his brow, the concern behind those blue eyes of his.  ‘I don’t know.  Right now, I don’t think we have much choice.’_

_‘Rick-’_

_‘Hey.’  His grip on your hand tightened, his fingers lacing through yours, and you let your head fall back, your eyes drifting closed as you let the gesture ground you.  ‘It’ll be okay, I promise.  I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.’_

_‘I know.’_

_‘Do you trust me?’_

_‘It’s him I don’t-’_

_‘Do you trust me?  Forget about him, I’m talking about you and me.’_

_As your eyes opened once more, your gaze landed on the toes of those cowboy boots that he still wore, day in, day out, the soft leather molded to his feet after so long on the road.  They were caked with mud.  It stuck in clumps around the ridge of the soles and formed a fine layer over the faded brown, turning them a chalky beige.  How many miles had those boots walked, you wondered, and how many more to go before you could finally find somewhere that you felt safe again?_

_‘You know I trust you, Rick.  You saved my life once, a long time ago, and I’m pretty sure you’ve saved me a couple of hundred times over since then.  I’d follow you anywhere.  I have.’_

_‘Then trust this, okay?  I’m not gonna let anyone lay a finger on you.  We’ve come through too much…’_

_You thought he might say more, but he fell silent, and you tugged your hand out of his grasp, twisting around and shuffling down so that you could lay your head in his lap, a smile forming on your lips when his fingers tangled themselves in your hair, tugging gently at the soft lengths, your eyelids growing heavy at the comforting feel of it.  ‘Thank you, Rick.’_

_‘Get some sleep.  I got you.’_

 

* * *

 

Movement in the doorway caught your eye, and your small smile expanded into a wide grin as you glanced up to see Rick watching you, his chest still glistening with moisture from the shower, a towel slung low around his hips.  The tension that usually stiffened his posture, threading through his muscles and tightening his jaw, had dissipated at some point during the night, and you thought you’d never seen him look so relaxed as he took a step closer, reaching for your hands so he could tug you upright, his fingers slipping to graze over your waist as you linked your own behind his neck.  

‘You tidyin’ up after me?’ 

‘Someone’s got to,’ you teased, your heartbeat faltering as his eyes flickered towards your lips, just for a second, the magnetic pull of him taking you by surprise even after the hours you’d spent wrapped around him in his bed.  It was still new, untested, and yet it felt right, natural, like you were finally where you belonged.  ‘One of us was gonna break our damn neck falling over those boots if I didn’t move ‘em.’

He shot you a crooked smile, ducking his head as he accepted your comment.  ‘Well, I’m not usually in such a hurry to get ‘em off.’

‘Don’t you go blaming me, Rick Grimes!’  He silenced you with a kiss, his mouth brushing over yours, sparking a fire that spread through your veins, warming your entire body in a matter of seconds.

‘Alright, I’m sorry.  Guess I just wasn’t thinkin’ straight when I came to bed last night.  Got caught up in other things.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’  He nodded, pulling you closer so that the water that still clung to his skin dampened your shirt.  ‘This feels good, doesn’t it?  You and me.’

‘It does.’

‘I’m sorry it took a while for me to see…  I guess I was trying not to feel anythin’ for such a long time, y’know.  We lost so many people and-’

‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Rick.  I get it.  It was the same for me too.  It’s scary, falling for someone new in this world.  Especially with what we’ve both been through.’

‘But you want this?’

‘I do.’  You turned your gaze to the window and the streets of Alexandria that lay beyond.  ‘We can be safe here, or at least safer than we’ve been in a long time.  We can build a home again, at last, and if I’m gonna do that, I want to do it with you.’

His mouth was on yours again before you could draw breath and you knew he was there with you, wanting that future that you could see in your head: you, him and his kids in your own little corner of the Safe Zone.  Sure, it wasn’t normality, but it was as close as you might get these days, and you had to cling on to it with every ounce of strength that you had.  You would always be stronger together.

You whimpered against his lips as his hands slid to the backs of your thighs, kneading the soft flesh for a moment before his grip tightened and he hoisted you up, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth when you wrapped your legs tight around him.  The towel slipped from his hips as you melded your body to his and his movements became more urgent, more hungry as he strode across the room, set on pinning you against the wall so he could have full control over you as he drove you over the edge.  Rick liked control.  You’d somehow known that even before he’d led you into his bedroom.

He broke the kiss as he stumbled, slamming your back into the cream-painted plaster more forcefully than he’d intended, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as his eyes met yours, an exasperated expression on his face.  ‘Everything okay there, Grimes?’

‘These damn boots.’


End file.
